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I had to laugh and shake my head at the same time. “Let me guess—you bribed her?”
His head drew back in shock as though I’d accused him of hitting on my seventy-year-old neighbour. “No. I just needed to see you, and you haven’t exactly been receptive.”
Time stood still as we remained at the doorway, lost in each other’s eyes.
I cleared my throat. “My place is a mess, and I must look awful.” I tapped my belly. Close to bursting, I was seven months pregnant at the time and wearing my favourite long, loose T-shirt and nothing else.
“I’m used to your place, Bel.” He smiled sweetly.
His using my diminutive reminded me of when we were kids. Since becoming intimate, he used my whole name like he was connecting to another version of me.
I stepped out of the doorway and let him in. His cologne wafted over me, and my nipples tightened.
Ethan’s hair was shorter, and he’d shaved that permanent dark shadow emphasising his chiselled jaw. What hadn’t changed, however, were those body-melting, dark sultry eyes that made me forget my name.
“You’ve been working out,” I said, going into the kitchen.
“I visit Reboot most days when I’m at Merivale.” He followed me into the messy kitchen, where unwashed plates piled up at the sink.
“Oh god, please don’t come in here.” I pushed him out. “Tea?”
He smiled at me making a fuss, and for a minute there, I forgot we weren’t together. He stood at my bookshelf and picked up a book on motherhood. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m great, thanks.” I tried to sound cheery, despite sudden trembles affecting my vocal cords. As a welcomed respite from this sudden burst of emotional turbulence, I busied myself making tea.
Carrying out our cups, I joined him in the living room and passed him a cup, using all my power not to spill it. I made room for him on the sofa by pushing away my guitar and books.
“How’s the music?” he asked.
“It’s okay.” I sat and sipped on tea, wishing it was something stronger.
“I love ‘Song of the Sea.’ The video’s stunning.” He wore genuine pride in his eyes, which made me feel teary for some reason.
I swallowed tightly. “You’ve looked me up?”
He nodded slowly. He seemed just as nervous as me. Normally, Ethan was the one who made everything seem easy, with that amiable, bounce-through-life approach.
We sat and drank our tea in awkward silence.
“Why are you here?” I asked at last.
“I just wanted to see you.” His piercing gaze held me hostage.
I gulped back guilt. Why had I pushed him away? Sheridan was right. I needed my head examined.
He smiled tightly. “You look beautiful. Motherhood suits you.”
“I’m just fat.” I laughed, looking for a way to dilute this sudden sexual tension.
His gaze burned into my face, then he moved closer on the couch and took my hand.
Sudden tingles through my body hijacked my breathing. I removed my hand. “Look, Ethan, this is too much.”
“You’re no longer attracted?” His brow furrowed.
“I’m more than attracted,” I said, looking down at my bare feet. In need of a pedicure, I tucked my toenails under.
He rose from the couch and stood by the mantle, fiddling with a crystal. “There hasn’t been one day when I haven’t thought about you. I want to be part of this.”
